The Next Day
Jubilife City was a chaotic, living organism. It had more Pokémon Centers and Marts than any other city in Sinnoh, and for good reason—it was the region's largest metropolis, home to millions. But where Jubilife truly dazzled was its government-run Pokémon Mall, a sprawling complex that took up multiple city blocks. If it was remotely related to Pokémon—TMs, grooming stations, evolution stones, supplements, even Pokétch accessories you could find it there. But I wasn't here to browse. I had already convinced Dad to load me up with enough rations to survive an emergency. He'd stuffed my pack with energy bars, camping gear, a flint striker, a small axe, a hand spade, and even A Trainer's First Guide a beginner's handbook co-written by Professor Rowan and some underpaid League intern.
Still, there were a few necessities I had to buy myself. Togepi was in her Poké Ball right now crowds made her skittish, and Jubilife's morning traffic was no joke.
The mall was humming with trainers and tourists alike. You could already feel the energy shifting in anticipation of the Sinnoh Circuit. It would really explode in a few weeks, once the season officially began and rookie trainers started flooding the city. I pushed past the crowd with a destination in mind: the general items store. It wasn't flashy like the TM Emporium or the Battle-Ready Boutique, but it had everything a first-time trainer actually needed.
I wasn't trying to go broke on Full Restores and X Attacks. I just needed the basics.
Still, I wouldn't have minded if my wallet could handle the premium stuff.
The store's automatic doors hissed open, letting out a blast of air that smelled like overly floral cleaning solution. I took a deep breath—don't ask why and strolled in. My first stop was the healing aisle. I grabbed five standard potions at 300 Pokédollars apiece. Painful. I added a few antidotes to my basket too; according to the regional trainer forums I'd checked, Routes 202 and 201 had a smattering of Bug- and Poison-types like Wurmple and Budew, though nothing as intense as Eterna Forest.
As I made my way toward the line, something shiny caught my attention.
The Poké Ball aisle.
I hadn't planned on catching anything yet. But… what if?
You never knew what you'd find out there. Maybe I'd bump into a Ralts or a freakin' Drifloon though hopefully not on a Friday. I tossed five standard Balls into my basket. I laughed to myself and muttered, "Imagine not carrying any Poké Balls and running into a Cresselia."
The cashier had tired eyes and hair dyed a soft violet, fading near the roots. She looked like she hadn't slept since the last League season. I placed my haul on the counter without a word.
"That'll be 2,800 Pokédollars," she said.
I panicked for a second and scrambled for the bills Dad had slipped me this morning, handing them over in a crumpled mess.
"Thank you for shopping at the Pokémon Mall. Have a _"
"Wait! Uh, sorry!" I interrupted. She shot me a death glare. "I had a question about Repels. Do they work between Jubilife and Twinleaf?"
She half-gestured toward the next customer. "Eh. Kind of. Low-level ones might just irritate wild Pokémon instead of scaring them off. Unless you've got a strong Pokémon leading your team, don't expect much. It helps to have one that gives off an intimidating aura. That doubles the effect."
I bowed my head. "Thanks for the advice!"
She turned back to the other customer. "Thank you for shopping at the Pokémon Mall. Have a great rest of your day." Then she looked back at me, her expression softening. "And hey, good luck out there. I was part of the Circuit two years ago. Only got two badges, but it was the best year of my life."
I gave a polite nod. I wasn't even signing up for the Circuit, but I appreciated the sentiment. Two badges was solid. Every year, post-Circuit statistics would circulate online showing badge progression. The numbers were brutal more than half of all entrants failed to get even their first badge. There were endless debates online about which gym was easiest to start with. Oreburgh Gym was the top pick because of Roark's predictable Rock-types and their glaring weaknesses. But realistically, most trainers just tackled whatever gym was closest to their hometown especially with the League's tight seasonal schedule.
When I got home, I released Togepi from her Poké Ball. She chirped, flapped her arms, and beamed at me like I was her whole world. I knelt down and pinched her cheeks gently.
"Hey, princess," I said. "Got some bad news."
She tilted her head to the side, confused. She was still really young, probably only a few months old, and didn't understand everything I said.
"We're going on an adventure. Just the two of us. I say 'adventure,' but it's more like a forced survival hike across two routes full of wild Pokémon. We'll be sleeping under the stars. On rocks. In the cold. Well—okay, Dad's giving me a sleeping bag later tonight, so maybe not that bad."
"Toge? Togepi!" she squealed.
"You telling me not to freak out?" I grinned. You could never fully understand what a Pokémon was saying, not unless you were like Red or something. But with enough time, you picked up the tone, the body language. I wasn't exactly a pro, but after being holed up in a two-bedroom apartment with Togepi for the past few months, I'd gotten pretty good at reading her.
"That's sweet of you. But I want to make sure we're both ready. Traveling's always risky. Nothing like a wild Starly mob to ruin your day."
"Prrri?" she asked.
"I want to test out your moves. Just to make sure we're on the same page when it comes to commands. If I say something, you need to know what I mean. I can't afford to mess that up out there."
She gave a small, uncertain nod.
"Okay! So, there are practice arenas all over the city—hell, even Barry trained at the one by the school but I didn't want to go. I mean, c'mon. Everyone there is Circuit-bound. They've got their Chimchars and Budews already. I'd get destroyed."
"Toge…"
"No, no, it's not your fault. That's on me. I just chickened out. Anyway, let's see what you can do."
I stood and glanced around our tiny apartment, trying to figure out a safe way to test her skills indoors. I really wished I had a Pokédex, but you only got one after registering with the League. A Pokédex would show me every move she knew, even the ones she hadn't used yet. For now, I only knew four: Pound, Rollout, Sweet Kiss, and Growl.
Pound had shown itself on Day One. The first time Dad and I had a screaming match, Togepi tried to body slam him. She had imprinted on me the second she hatched and viewed me as her 'mom,' which wasn't unusual. Professor Rowan had mentioned in a broadcast that freshly hatched Pokémon often treated the first living being they saw as their guardian especially species as emotionally bonded as Togepi.
That first battle? Well… Dad was just yelling because I lied about "borrowing" some cash from his wallet.
Togepi had slammed him with her stubby little arm a proper Pound, with surprising force for something that fit in a backpack. It knocked him flat onto the kitchen tiles. Terrifying in the moment, seeing this freshly hatched baby Pokémon lash out to defend me… but hilarious in hindsight. I swear he was more impressed than hurt. These days, he probably loved her more than me.
Growl was next. Textbook stuff. It was one of those instinctual, low-tier moves almost every Pokémon learned early. Its effect wasn't flashy, but a well-timed Growl could throw off a wild Pokémon's rhythm just enough to weaken its next strike. That kind of psychological warfare could mean everything in low-level skirmishes. It had startled a wild Shinx once while we were walking through Sandgem a few weeks back. Didn't even need to battle. It just ran.
Sweet Kiss, on the other hand, had been a disaster. Togepi had used it completely on instinct. There was another male Togepi in the waiting room at the Pokémon Center—his shell was patterned in darker speckles, definitely from a different egg group. My Togepi waddled up, locked eyes, and blew him a soft, glimmering kiss. The move triggered Confusion immediately. The other Togepi spun in place, dazed, and crashed headfirst into a vending machine. The sound it made glass and metal got everyone's attention. His trainer, a boy with a black hoodie and way too much hair gel, nearly tore my arm off before Dad stepped out of the bathroom and talked him down.
And Rollout… well, Rollout was still mostly a theory. I'd seen her roll into things before—kitchen chairs, laundry bins, my foot and the impact always left a mark. If it was just clumsiness, she was the world's most violent klutz. But more than once, she'd tucked into her shell right before impact, and the way she spun… I was convinced it wasn't random. There was a cracked bit of drywall near the floor by her food dish from last week, and I caught myself snorting as I stared at it. Rollout was still unofficial, but if it quacked like a ducklett…
Thinking about all this made me weirdly nostalgic. I scooped her up and raised her toward the ceiling. She chirped gleefully, arms flapping, like she could take off and fly.
"Let's believe in ourselves! We're gonna do it!"
——
"Togepi! Use Pound, then Rollout!"
She sprinted toward the target an empty plastic soda bottle I'd pulled from the recycling bin—her tiny arm glowing faintly. She slammed it hard, slicing it in half with surprising precision. Before the pieces could settle, she curled into her shell and spun forward like a tiny cannonball. One half of the bottle was flattened under her momentum.
"Great job—wait, Togepi, stop! Stop!"
But she didn't. She was still rolling, headed straight for the kitchen counter.
Thunk.
She smacked into the wood with a hollow bang and left a dent right above the baseboard.
"Prrrri?" she chirped, dazed but happy.
"Dammit… Dad's gonna kill me." I dragged a hand down my face. "Togepi, when I say stop, you've gotta stop, okay?"
"Togepi!"
"You say that, but you keep rolling through everything like a boulder." I crouched beside her, inspecting the wood. "Man, the counter is so screwed. Is it the momentum?"
She blinked at me, confused. Her head tilted like a curious Meowth.
"I mean, if you're using Rollout, maybe you can't physically stop until you crash into something?"
"Prrrri!" she chirped and nodded, proud of her chaos.
I snapped my fingers. "That's progress! That means we just need to train your control. Okay, okay let's go again. You've got Pound down, but Rollout needs work. This time, try to stop once you hit your target, before you crash into my kitchen."
I fished another bottle from the bin.
——
"Togepi, stop!"
She sped toward the wall. I winced, bracing for impact. But this time, her speed dropped as she wobbled. She clumsily tipped onto her back, arms flailing like a baby Numel flipped on its shell. She struggled for a moment, then righted herself with a determined squeak.
She had stopped.
"Yes! Yes yes YES! Let's go!" I scooped her up and spun in place. "You did it, princess! I'm so proud of you!"
"Prrriii! Togeprrri!" she chirped, practically dancing in my arms.
I glanced toward the window. "Wait, is the sun already going down?" I pulled out my Pokétch and checked the time.
5:23 PM.
"…Shit."
I rushed to clean. Togepi had knocked over a cabinet earlier, shattering a glass cup, and I hadn't even noticed. I was still sweeping when I heard keys turning in the lock.
Dad walked in at exactly 5:30 PM. Togepi squealed and ran to greet him like a living greeting card, completely unaware of the destruction. He looked around the kitchen. Then he dropped his keys and exhaled through his nose.
"Grace," he said, calmly. "Go to your room. I'll clean up first."
That was bad. Calm Dad was worse than Loud Dad.
About twenty minutes later, he stepped into my room. He didn't sit. He just crossed his arms and stood by the doorway like a Gym Leader waiting for a challenge.
"Grace"
"I'm sorry!" I blurted. "I was just training Togepi, and I got carried away, and I didn't mean to wreck anything, I just… I'm sorry."
"I'm not angry that you trained her," he said, tone still stern. "Honestly, I'm glad you're taking this seriously. But why here? There are training arenas in every ward of Jubilife! They're designed for this exact purpose. You've got gym grounds, school lots, circuit scouts watching—literally everything."
I shrank a little. "I know. I'm sorry."
Togepi, reading the tension, gave a small, sad chirp and curled into my lap.
Dad sighed. "You're leaving tomorrow. I don't want this to be hanging over you. So I'm letting it go. But promise me—next time, use the right place."
"I promise. I was just scared…"
"Scared?"
"Scared I'd embarrass myself. There's always someone training for the League or prepping for the Circuit. And me? I don't know what I'm doing. I'd just be another joke. I figured if I stayed home, I could pretend I was learning. Safer that way."
He sat next to me and placed a hand on my shoulder. "Grace… I thought you didn't even care about training?"
"I didn't think I did either. But today? It was fun. More fun than wasting time watching some filler tournament on TV. I felt like I was doing something real. But if I actually go out there… I'll see how little I really know. It's like living in a bubble until something pops it."
He stayed quiet for a beat, then chuckled softly. "That's deep. Listen.I won't push you to sign up for anything. But Grace, you've gotta stop being afraid of failure."
"What if the failure's… huge?"
"Huge? C'mon. You wanna hear how my first battle went?" he asked.
I blinked. "Sure."
"I registered for the Circuit at fifteen, with Lillipup. First route 203, headed toward Oreburgh. I got challenged by this scrappy kid must've been nine, tops. Not even on the Circuit. I thought it'd be a warm-up. His Budew wiped the floor with us."
"No way."
"Oh yeah. He set up Leech Seed, stayed at a distance, and Lillipup panicked. Rolled around trying to shake the vines, but Budew kept hitting from range. I didn't land a single attack."
I winced. "Yikes."
"Brutal. But I went back to square one, trained near Jubilife, and tried again. Got stomped by Roark, of course, but it was progress. That's the whole point. Progress isn't pretty. But it's better than standing still."
"…Thanks, Dad."
"I'll be rooting for you on the Circuit."
I shoved him with a grin. "I'm not signing up."
"Sure, sure," he said, waving me off. "You've got the bug now."
"The… bug?"
"The training bug. Once it bites, it doesn't let go."
I stared down at Togepi, who blinked up at me like she already believed it.
"…To be Champion?" I asked quietly.
Dad grinned like I'd just said the magic words.
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